


This is my Curse

by Winterblume



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterblume/pseuds/Winterblume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever would Tom Riddle do on a night out? Follow Tom as he throws himself into London's nightlife, fully intend to enjoy it as much as he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay, so I might have a bit of a writer’s block. Urg. Couldn’t write for my other fics (Don’t worry, though. I will. Stupid writer’s blocks are always temporary.) On that account: big thank you for the reviews/kudos on my other stories. Please take this drabble as my thank you to you all :D
> 
> Anyway, I thought writing a drabble might help me get the writing juices flowing again. Luckily, there’s a great place for Tomione prompts. If you haven’t checked it out already, you can find the Tomionekinkmeme on tumblr. Great prompts, fills and other challenges all about Tomione. So thanks to the Tomionekinkmeme and to theweariestrivers for providing the prompt to this drabble: Alcohol/Drug/Sex - Hedonism - Tom indulges, a lot.
> 
> So what else to say? Enjoy the fic and let me know what you think about it. Every fanfic writer loves reviews ;)

Oh, he was feeling good. Fucking fantastic. Content smirk curving his lips, Tom poured himself another vodka. The shot glass was full to the brim. He didn't even care anymore. He thoroughly enjoyed the burning sensation as the alcohol touched his tongue. The pleasantly dizzy feeling in his head increased and he comfortably leaned back in his seat. His gaze wandered over the dimly lit room. Music blared from somewhere and the beats were thumping through his whole body. Tom couldn't tell anymore if the music was too loud or just about right. People had clustered on the dance floor in the middle of the room, moving to the beats. Tom blinked at the wild mass of bodies and the flashing lights. Red, green, blue and the barely clothed bodies merged into one wriggling mass, turning, twisting, coiling. Tom squinted his eyes. Were they all dancing in slow motion or was he seeing things? Either way, Tom laughed and drained another glass.

The drums of the music wonderfully swirled up his thoughts and Tom barely noticed someone sitting down beside him. He sluggishly turned his head. Abraxas Malfoy now slouched beside him on the tacky red velvet bench in their little VIP area. Tom breathed in deeply. He could barely focus his eyes on Abraxas' face.

"How's it going, Tommy?" the Malfoy heir slurred, silly smile on his face.

If he hadn't felt so good, Tom would have pulled his wand and crucioed the posh bastard for that address. As it was, though, he couldn't care less. There was something else on his mind. Extending an expectant hand to Abraxas, he demanded,

"Did you get it?"

His answer was a cocky grin and a small plastic bag filled with white powder in his hand. Tom didn't bother to thank Abraxas. The git was rich enough to buy his own body weight in coke. Tom ripped the bag open and used one of the club's business cards that lay on the table to meticulously form the white powder into a few lines. Then he rolled up a note.

"Hey," Abraxas protested half-heartedly, already a new glass in hand. "Don't hog it."

Tom ignored him. He bent over the table and, using the rolled up note, snorted one of the lines. Just to be sure, he did a second. Satisfied he leaned back, waiting for the high to hit. Abraxas had abandoned his drink and busied himself snorting a line himself.

Slowly a smile twisted up Tom's lips. This was amazing, wasn't it? Sure the club was Muggle, and no-one like that, but it wasn't half bad. Was it? Not at all. Tom nodded to himself. Even the dancing bulk of people looked appealing. He laughed and reached for his glass.

"I think I'm going dancing," Tom told Abraxas enthusiastically. "I'm pretty sure I can score tonight."

Abraxas nodded. "Yeah. Those Muggles don't look half bad. And they'll do everything for you. I tell you." A sleazy smirk grew on his face. "I don't even think it's illegal to imperius a Muggle."

Tom shrugged, eyes already searching for his prey. "You know what? I really think it is. But I'm not that desperate."

He reached for his drink and drained it. When he made to get up, Abraxas' voice held him back,

"What about Hermione?"

Tom's brow furrowed. He turned around and sent Abraxas a dark glare. His temper flared dangerously and he snapped,

"What about her?"

"Dunno." Abraxas sipped from his drink. "Just… you know… She wouldn't really approve, would she?"

Tom took a deep steadying breath. Leave it to stupid Abraxas to ruin a perfectly good night. Hermione… Pfh, Hermione wasn't here, was she? Tom  _was_ , though. And he intended to have fun.

"What are you going to do?" Tom hissed, malice twisting his voice into a threat. "Tell her?"

The fear washing over Abraxas' features was satisfying to watch. Hastily, the Slytherin backpedalled and stuttered, "N- no. I would never. Mate, you know that. I was just saying."

"Yeah, well. In future keep your thoughts to yourself," Tom warned darkly. "And stay away from my girlfriend."

Abraxas quickly nodded, panic in his eyes, and mumbled submissive assurances. Tom wasn't listening anymore. Anger still gnawing at him, he stalked to the dance floor.

~.~.~

Luckily, it didn't take much to distract Tom from that unwelcome reminder of Hermione. He moaned as he thrust into the blonde who had her legs wrapped around his waist. The girl squirmed in pleasure, panting heavily. He ignored her guttural groans and only concentrated on his own approaching climax. He plunged hard into her, keeping his fast rhythm. The blonde moaned again, eyes half closed, drugged out of her mind. The next time he rammed into her, Tom felt her walls squeezing down on him. The girl screamed out as her orgasm hit her hard. He didn't stop or acknowledge her in any way. This was only about him. She wasn't Hermione, so he didn't care. Tom continued to thrust into the blonde and finally he reached his own sweet release. A groan falling from his lips, he pushed deep into her and stayed still, riding out his orgasm.

After that, there really wasn't much to say. Tom left the nameless blonde, still a shivering mess, in the ladies' toilet and staggered back into the club's main room. The music was still playing loudly. The people still danced. Lights flared. Tom rubbed a hand over his face. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled one of the pills. He probably shouldn't mix, but he really didn't care at this point. Tom swallowed the pill and threw himself back into the throng of dancers. The drums of the music pulled him in. There were bodies around him, rubbing against him, grabbing him, holding him. He let himself be washed away with them and the music enveloped him completely. They were all floating, flying. He kissed another blonde. It was a different girl, but he really didn't care either way. They looked all the same to him. There was only one that meant more.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


	2. Chapter 2

Abraxas had disappeared, probably ended up in the bed of some unfortunate girl. The sun began to rise as Tom left the club. The party was definitely over and Tom wasn't floating anymore. Greedily, he sucked in the fresh morning air. It didn't really help his swirling head. He felt horribly sick as he stumbled away from the club's entrance and onto London's streets. The world spun in front of his eyes as he blinked and tried to find his way home. He managed to stagger down one street before he had to throw up. His heart was racing away in his chest and he felt incredibly dizzy. He definitely shouldn't have mixed all that stuff.

It was down another street that Tom had to admit he had no idea where he was going. Apparition was out of the question. He just wanted to lie down. That, or throw up again. Groaning softly, he let himself sag against a house wall. Slowly he slid down until he sat on the cold ground. Breathing heavily, he sat there for a few minutes. Hazy as his thoughts were, he still knew he couldn't stay here. He would freeze to death. There really was only one who would always pull him out of tight spots. Only one he trusted enough.

Tom's hand shook heavily as he reached into his jacket. Reluctantly, he pulled the mobile from the pocket. Terribly  _Muggle_ , but Hermione insisted he had one. It took him a moment to find the right number in the, admittedly short, address book. Tom held the mobile against his ear. It only took her three rings to answer. He sighed in relief as he heard her pleasant voice,

"Tom? Is that you?"

His head still spun and he felt nauseous. Trying to pull himself together, Tom mumbled into the receiver, "Yeah… 's me."

For a moment, there was no reply. Tom could almost hear the scowl on Hermione's face. Then she said tightly,

"Where have you been?"

Signs of her upcoming temper were already in her tone. Tom cleared his throat. Then he whispered shakily,

"'m not feeling so good. Can you get me?"

" _Again_ , Tom?" Hermione's voice snapped at him furiously. "Are you kidding me? I told you, I'm not doing this anymore."

Tom let his head fall back and stared up at the morning sky. He felt like the worst. What the fuck had he been thinking? He had only just managed to convince Hermione to stay with him. Why did he always have to sabotage his own happiness?

"Hermione," he whispered in a raspy voice. " _Please_."

There was no answer and for a moment Tom feared she had just hung up on him. Then she said, voice cold as ice,

"Where are you?"

Tom closed his eyes in relief. His fingers tightened around the mobile in his hand and he pressed it against his ear, eager to hear every breath, every sound of her.

"I- I don't know," he admitted faintly.

"Of course you don't," Hermione's harsh taunt washed over him. Then a bit gentler, she said, "Okay… stay where you are. I'll get you."

"Thank you," Tom whispered, but she had already hung up.

~.~.~

"What did you take?" Hermione demanded to know.

Tom had curled up on her soft bed, feeling entirely awful. She had pulled his shoes from his feet and thrown a blanket over him. He really didn't know why she was doing all this for him. He didn't deserve it. He really was the worst.

"I… " he mumbled, not wanting to confess.

Hermione plopped down on the bed and pulled the blanket away from where he had pulled it over his head. Tom blinked up at her, vision blurry. His head hurt and he might throw up again.

"Tom," Hermione's stern voice pulled him back to the problem at hand. "What have you taken?"

Reluctantly he looked up at her brown eyes. Hermione's bushy hair was tamed into a pony tail. Her eyebrows were cocked expectantly as she stared down at him. He had to avert his eyes as he replied,

"I… I just did a few lines. I swear it wasn't much."

Through the corners of his eyes he saw how her hands balled into tight fists. After a moment of silence that made Tom squirm uncomfortably, she said mordantly,

"You promised, Tom."

He gritted his teeth. There was a tight feeling in his chest that left him empty and numb. Cautiously, he looked up at her. There was disappointment on her face and the empty feeling grew.

"I know… I'm sorry."

Hermione shook her head, eyes glinting with anger. She narrowed her eyes at him as if she had read something off his face. Suspicion was thick in her voice as she questioned,

"What else happened?"

Immediately, Tom knew he couldn't tell her about the blonde. Hermione would kill him. He didn't even know why he had done it. The girl hadn't meant anything and the sex hadn't even been good. Hell, he couldn't even remember it.

At Tom's continued silence. Hermione raised a hand and buried her fingers in his dark hair. Tom groaned in pain as she mercilessly pulled at him so he was forced to look at her again. He didn't know why she could do this. If it were anyone else, he would have crucioed them by now. Or worse. She was the only one. Brown eyes relentlessly bored into his and Tom was helpless. Hermione repeated her question, lethal tint to her tone,

"What else did you do?"

He could read it on her face. She already knew. Tom swallowed nervously. He just couldn't say it. Hermione would leave. Why did he have to need her so much?

"Did you cheat on me?" Hermione asked stonily.

Tom's eyes widened. Panic boiled up in him. Abraxas' stupid warning spun through his head. He should have listened. He was going to curse the bastard.

"I didn't mean to," Tom hastily assured. "I wasn't myself. I couldn't think right. You know you're the only one for me. Hermione, please. I didn't mean to. I was ju-"

"Shut up!"

Abruptly, Hermione released him from her tight grip and sprang up from the bed. There was anger in her voice but all Tom could see were the tears brimming in her eyes.

"I don't know why I always let myself be pulled in. Again and again," Hermione yelled at him, magic raging around her fiercely. "I swear to Merlin. This was the last time, Tom. No more chances. We're over!"

Tom's blood froze over in panic. He couldn't have this. This was his curse: He  _needed_  Hermione. Before she could run away and leave him alone, Tom scrambled up from the bed. His head hurt piercingly and instantly the nausea returned, but he managed to stagger over to her. The witch glared at him murderously and he could feel her thick magic in the air, ready to attack.

"Just get the fuck away from me!" Hermione raged at him.

Tom took another step towards her. He  _couldn't_  leave her. Wasn't that the whole problem?

"Please," he desperately tried to soothe her. "It was a mistake. I don't know why I even did it. I was completely out of it. I would never do that to you."

By the end of his statement, Hermione was openly crying and he didn't know what to do. This was worse than her screaming. Hermione had buried her face in her hands and her shoulders shook with her sobs. Tom cautiously walked over to her. She didn't look up.

"Hermione?" he whispered gently as he laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

She didn't react. Tom couldn't take it anymore. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. Hermione still cried, her face hidden behind her hands. Gingerly, Tom ran a hand over her head. He bent down and buried his face into her hair.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I don't know why I did it. I swear it'll never happen again. It didn't mean anything. I was just stupid and high."

Finally, Hermione moved. Without looking up at him, she pushed against his chest and wriggled out of his embrace. Tom acutely felt the loss of her warm body against him. There was an unfamiliar feeling of anxiety mounting up in him. He only ever felt this way around her. Why couldn't he leave?

Hermione's red-rimmed eyes blinked up at him. There were tear tracks on her cheeks that didn't fit to the determined, hard look on her face. Hermione's eyes glinted dangerously, no longer crying.

"I mean it, Tom," she told him, voice strong and firm. "We're over. I'm not doing this anymore. The drugs were already too much. And now you sleep around? I'm worth more than that."

Tom swallowed nervously. The tight feeling around his chest constricted more and more.

"I know you are," he whispered. "I promise, I won't do it again."

Hermione only sneered at him, "Your promises mean nothing anymore."

" _Please_." Tom couldn't believe he was reduced to begging.  _He_  who was so much more. "I don't want to lose you. I need you."

Hermione pressed her mouth into a thin line. "That's the worst of it all. I need you, too, Tom. I love you. You know that. And yet, you  _still_  go out there and do the things you do. You don't care at all."

Tom shook his head. "I care. I care about you, Hermione." He bent down to her and placed a desperate kiss against her temple. "Don't leave me."

Hermione pulled away from him and his heart sank. Anger twisted her pretty features and she growled,

"You had your last chance and you didn't take it. It's over."

"No, no." Tom stared at her with wide eyes. This couldn't be happening. "You can't do that. Please."

Hermione raised a hand and laid it against his chest. Even now, he enjoyed how her magic brushed against his. The perfect match. Why did he need to be chained to this witch? Tom raised a hand and laid it over hers on his chest.

"I know I fucked up," he said earnestly, looking into her eyes. "I know. But I also know that I need you. I won't let you go."

A sad smile touched Hermione's lips and she pulled her hand away from his grip. "This time, you can't sweet-talk me. This is where I draw the line. I can't be with you like this." Tom shuddered at the hard tint in her voice. "You won't get any chances for free anymore."

Tom balled his hands into fists, feeling helpless. What could he do? Tom didn't know, so he tried something he had never done.

"Hermione…" he whispered. "I love you."

The sad smile still curled Hermione's lips. She took a step towards him and her hand grasped him by the arm. Softly, she said,

"That's not enough, Tom." Her fingers tightened around his upper arm. "Words are not enough, this time. You need to prove it."

Tom furrowed his brow in confusion. "What?"

Finally, Hermione released him. Carefully, she brushed non-existent dust from her dark robe. Then she stepped over to the door. Tom could only watch her in confusion. Hermione stopped in the door way and looked back to him.

"I have to go to work," she said in a level voice. "You can stay here until you feel better. But I want you gone before I come back."

Panic was lacing Tom's tone, "Hermione, ple-"

"I told you, you have to prove it," was Hermione's unaffected reply. "If you need me, if you truly love me, you prove it. No drugs anymore. No sleeping with other girls. Nothing of that. Show me that you can change, and I might change my mind about you."

With that, Hermione left her flat. Tom still stood in her bedroom, feeling quite lost. He hated it how she had him in the palm of her hand. He couldn't escape; he had tried. He had  _plans_. Important plans. He was supposed to transform into something grand. Tom Riddle's death would mark his transcendence into his true immortal self. Lord Voldemort needed no-one.

Hermione.

Hermione had caught him in her web.

She wanted proof? He  _would_  prove himself to her. Hermione was the only thing that he would never give up. She was  _his_. His curse.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


End file.
